


Fireworks in Celebration

by SpiritsFlame



Category: Avengers (Comic), The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: Birthday, Fourth of July, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:01:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritsFlame/pseuds/SpiritsFlame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is a man of modest means and simple taste. Which is probably why Tony is having such a hard time planning an appropriate party for him. Actual skydancers might be a bit too much, in any case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireworks in Celebration

**Author's Note:**

> I want to apologize to the world for this unbeta'd monstrosity. I promised myself I'd write a 'Cap's Birthday!' fic, and I did. That said, I'm not very happy with how it turned out at all. I had to get it up by the 4th, but hopefully I'll be able to clean it up or completely rewrite it soon enough. I'm sorry.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to my own Bruce Banner, Jazz. This is the only fandom we currently share, so this is all for you, lovely.

Tony can remember growing up on stories of Captain America, fervently collecting the comics, the posters, the cheap metal lunchboxes that he’d proudly dragged every day to his private schools. 

Back then, when Captain America was more of an idea then a person, it had made perfect sense that his birthday was the 4th of July. He was Captain America, when else would it be?

Now that Captain America was a living, breathing, amazing person named Steve Rogers, it seemed comical, almost absurd. It’s almost too perfect, too neat. 

Which is why he can be excused for the fact that, while the Avengers are gleefully planning a 4th of July picnic, it takes Tony all the way until the first to realize that it’s actually Steve’s birthday that day as well.

He’s pulling up lists of caterers and possible locations before the thought even finishes going through his mind. 

It’s Steve’s first birthday in the 21st century, so of course it has to be something big and grand, something wonderful. Steve is worth it.

Tony scraps at least six plans in the first ten minutes, he has JARVIS running fifteen concurrent searches on open party places in the city and he can’t believe that he didn’t think of this sooner, what was he thinking?

Pepper comes in somewhere around Plan #37, which is kind of working around a cirque de solei, masqued theme. 

“Tony, I want to talk to you about-” she cuts off midsentence, staring around at the projections that are filling up the room. “Tony, what the hell?”

“Too much?” Tony looks at the virtual skydancers, lazily spinning in the semi-translucent fabric.

“I don’t know, if this is another party for your model friends it’s probably perfect,” Pepper says sarcastically. Tony sighs and bats a hand at the images, sending them away. 

“What can I help you with? Because if this is about the recent press scandal, I promise you, it was only a little my fault, and I think even that is debatable. Really, it’s Barton you want to be-”

“I don’t care about that right now, though I would like to know how you plan to pin the fact that you landed on the mayor’s car on Clint. Please, explain what all this is.” she gestures at the searches still running on his computer.

“I don’t know if you know this, but let’s be honest, you probably do, today is the first of July.”

“Yes?”

“That means it’s only three days until the 4th of July!” Tony exclaims

“Yes, Tony, that’s how timework.”

“The 4th is Steve’s birthday!”

Pepper sighs audibly, more, Tony thinks, for effect then for breath. “And you’re trying to throw him a party?” 

“It has to be perfect!”

“Tony.” Pepper comes over to stand beside him, “Have you actually met Steve Rogers?”

Tony stare up her, baffled. “Yes?” He’s pretty sure this a trick question.

“Steve Rogers, who hates big parties and extravagent displays of wealth.”

“So, no on the cirque de solei?”

“No on the big party, Tony. Set yourself a budget of, say, $100. And don’t invite anyone Steve doesn’t know by name.”

“$100!” Tony exlaims. “What can I buy with $100? Can you even buy shoes for that price?”

Pepper puts her head in her hands. “I worry about you so much.”

“JARVIS, pull up a search for local bakeries that do cake deliveries.”

“I swear to god, Tony, is a stripper comes out of the cake, Steve will never forgive you.”

Tony waves her aside. “I know that. Do you think he’s like one shaped like his face?”

\--

The thing is, Tony has become kind of obsessed with making Steve happy. Part of it is just because he likes to see Steve happy, but another part of it is that he hates failure. And he doesn’t think he’s ever failed so badly at anything as he has at trying to impress Steve Rogers.

It had taken a lot of work for them to even develop a good working relationship, much less a proper friendship. It’s very hard to recover from such a poor first impression.

And, to be fair, Tony is willing to admit that the second and third impressions weren’t much better.

In the past several months of being the Avengers, an amazing, collaborative effort the likes of which Tony has never been a part of, Tony had been somewhat surprised when he realized that he actually liked Steve Rogers. 

Steve did ridiculous, heart melting things like go help old ladies cross the street, and visit the local orphanages to read to them, fitting his large frame into the too-small plastic chairs and reading from children’s books the look tiny in his big hands. 

Tony had once seen Steve scale a tree to actually get a cat from a amist the branches. The little girl it belonged to had blinked up at him with large brown eyes and had solomley thanks ‘Mr. America’ and Steve had smiled at her and that was it. Tony is pretty sure he’s never going to recover from that.

So yeah, he’s tried to impress Steve. And he’s failed. Terribly. Failure the likes of which Tony has never experienced before.

The number one problem is that Tony’s go to strategy is to throw money at people until they like him.

It has to opposite effect on Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers does not want a brand new porche convertible. Or an entire wardrobe of Armani suits. Or to be introduced to the twins who were on the cover of last month’s ‘Playboy’. 

And yeah, in hindsight, Tony should have really seen that coming. 

He’s still not sure how they managed to become friends at all, it simply built up between saving each others lives on the field and arguing about quality cinema during team movie nights.

It’s easier to be Iron Man around Steve then it is to be Tony. As Iron Man, he gets things done, by himself and without even touching his bank account. He’s pretty certain that if he had met Steve before Iron Man, Steve would refuse even to be in the same room with him.

So yeah, he can kind of see where Pepper is coming from about this party thing. Because chances are if Tony brings Steve into a room filled with models and smoke and bright lights, Steve will turn around and walk right back out again.

In the end, Tony admits defeat, pulls on his big boy pants and goes to ask the other Avengers what they think.

\--

The part ends up being a small, intimate party just for the Avengers, held on the top floor of the Avengers mansion. 

The decorations were the least decadent things to have ever graced the halls of a Stark home, mostly because Tony had let Natasha take charge of decorating. Bruce had been charge of the food, because frankly no one trusted Thor or Clint with it.

Tony had been in charge of not making any executive decisions and getting Steve to the party. 

The look on Steve’s face when he walks in and sees the painfully homemade ‘Happy Birthday Steve!’ banner makes it all worth it though. 

“Is this for me?” he asks. 

Tony laughs and nudges Steve further into the room. “It has your name on it, doesn’t it?”

Steve looks at all of them, arranged under the banner and his grin could probably power a small city somewhere. “Thank you,” he says, so sincere it makes Tony’s throat feel tight.

“Happy Feasting Day, my friend!” Thor bellows, pulling Steve into a bone cracking hug and effectively breaking the serious mood that had settled over the room. 

The party, Tony is pleased to say, goes fantastically. Clint had managed to scrap together an old record player with Glenn Miller records and Steve is pulling Natasha onto the floor before she can protest.

Tony’s not surprised to see that she knows how to dance, but he’s a little surprised when Clint cuts in and manages to keep up with the steps like he’d been born to it.

Bruce politely offers Pepper his hand, and though they don’t match Natasha and Clint for talent or grace, they manage to look pretty good with the old fashioned steps.

Tony nearly chokes on his drink when he sees Thor sweep up a partnerless Steve and start spinning him around the room like Steve is a ninety pound flapper girl. Steve, to his credit, takes it in stride, moving into Thor’s exuberant steps and grinning like this is the best fun he’s had in ages.

And maybe it is, Tony thinks sadly, because while Tony can amuse himself with inventing and the occasional party, Steve still has very little that ties him to the modern world aside from being an Avengers.

“Aren’t you going to dance?” A laughing voice inquires from just above him, and Tony jerks out of his thoughts to see Steve’s bright blue eyes staring down at him, amusement glimmering in their depths.

Tony makes a face. “It’s something I try to avoid while sober.” He holds up his glass of water as evidence.

“Now’s as good a chance as any,” Steve says, taking Tony’s glass from his hand and placing it down on the bar.

He puts one large hand on Tony’s waist and, when Tony just stares at him in shock, moves one of Tony’s hands to his shoulder. 

When they begin to move into the steps, Tony falls into them without thought, countless hours of dance lessons ensuring that he won’t embarrass himself. Not with dancing, anyway. 

“This doesn’t seem like your style, Tony,” Steve says, voice close to Tony’s ear. 

Tony shivers and pulls away so that he can look into Steve’s face. Indulging in his terrible secret crush on Steve Rogers is one thing, but letting Steve whisper into his ear while they danced was crossing into masochism territory.

“No,” Tony agrees. “It is yours though.”

Steve’s eyes go soft and warm and Tony has never had anyone in his life look at him like that, with such affection. It’s terrifying. He coughs awkwardly and shifts a bit so that he’s looking over Steve’s shoulder instead.

“I thought about throwing an entire masquerade party,” he continues. “I was going to wear a mask made entirely of silver wire.”

“A nice change of pace for you.” 

Tony huffs a laugh. “Yes, but I decided against it. I thought you might come in your Captain America cowl and decided to save both of us the embarrassment.”

“I’m glad you did,” Steve says softly. “This party, it’s amazing.”

Tony looks over Steve’s shoulder at the room, with the tacky streamers and the homemade banner and the cheesy 4th of July cake with red and blue stars on a white background.

“If you say so, Cap,” he agrees tactfully.

“The last time I had a birthday, I was in the middle of France. The greatest luxury I had that day was fresh picked strawberries from a farm nearby. Two days later, the entire field was crushed as the army marched through. The last birthday before the War, Bucky took me to the movies with two broads I’d never met and then left. Trust me when I say that this is an improvement.”

Tony clears his throat. “Yes. Well.” He might have said more, though he can’t imagine what, when Clint taps on his shoulder. 

“Might I have this dance?” He asks Steve with mock seriousness.

Tony thinks he sees regret on Steve’s face when he drops Tony’s hand, but Steve just smiles. “Of course.”

\--

Tony retreats to the outside after a couple more rounds of dancing. He has to escape to the cool night air and the modern sounds of bustling traffic. Steve’s laughter could fill a room, his smile too infectious and too bright for Tony to handle.

He can’t remember seeing Steve this happy and it’s making Tony feel light-headed and stupid. It makes him want to do something he’ll regret.

He really should have known better then to expect some alone time.

“Trying to escape?” Steve asks, closing the glass door behind him softly.

“Something like that,” Tony replies.

Steve comes up to stand beside him, bracing his hands on the low stone wall and staring out at the City.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he asks softly.

“The view?” Tony asks, because yeah, the view is pretty great.

“Everything. The entire city. It’s so alive.”

“Too alive, sometimes,” Tony says ruefully. He’s thinking of the giant sentient plants that had tried to take over the subway system the other day, but Steve just shakes his head.

“Never. No such thing.”

Tony just nods, sure that if he opens his mouth he’ll say something to ruin this. They stare out at the city for a long moment.

“I thought about a baseball game,” Tony blurts finally. Steve turns to look at him, regarding him with those piercing blue eyes. “I was going to rent out one of the special booths and everything.”

“Why didn’t you?” Steve asks curiously. 

Tony gives a half shrug. “You made your feelings on the Yankees pretty clear, and I didn’t think you’d want to be dragged all the way across the country at such short notice for a Dodgers game.”

“This is better,” Steve replies. 

“Maybe.” Tony is pretty sure that if he’d tried harder, thought of it earlier, he could have given Steve more than this.

His thoughts are cut short by a sudden noise like an explosion and he’s jerking towards his Iron Man suit before the bright colors of fireworks explode before his eyes. 

Steve makes a soft noise next to him, eyes wide. “Are these fireworks?” he asks.

“Ok, I know they had fireworks in your day. You’re not that old,” Tony laughs.

“Not like this,” Steve replies, eyes fixed on the sky.

Tony turns to see the shower of sparks wizz into spirals then fade away. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen a hundred time before.

Instead, he watches Steve, watching the change of colors across his face. Steve is leaning forward into the wall, smiling like he’ll never stop. It’s dazzling, and Tony can’t look away.

“How do you think they-” Steve towards him, and the question dies on his lips, eyes going wide as he stares at Tony.

Tony can feel himself go pale because he wasn’t shielding at all, he knows that Steve could read all of his emotions right there on his face. All his stupid feelings, all out in the open.

“Tony,” Steve says softly, reverently.

“I need to-” Tony jerks his thumb at the inside of the building, his brain in a full uproar of ‘Escape! Escape!’

Steve catches his wrist. “Tony,” he says again, more confident.

“I think I see Clint getting into my-” Tony tries again and Steve pulls him close and kisses him quiet.

Tony’s body reacts faster then his brain, responding to the familiar feeling of a mouth on his, and Tony has his arms around Steve’s neck before his brain knows what’s going on.

He manages to pull himself away through sheer force of will. “Steve, what the hell?” he demands.

Steve goes pale, letting go abruptly. “I’m sorry! I thought you wanted. I shouldn’t have-”

Tony stares at him, bewildered. “Of course I wanted. Who doesn’t ‘want’. I didn’t think that you would want to-”

Steve grabs Tony’s hand and pulls him back into a pose reminiscent of their earlier dancing, one hand settled on Tony’s waist. “I do.” He pulls Tony into another kiss.

It would be cliche to say that fireworks are going off, but that’s not Tony’s fault.

“So,” Tony says when he pulls away for a breath of air, “good party?”

Steve laughs, sounding so open and joyful that Tony think he might actually explode with feelings. “The best.”


End file.
